Darkstalker's Empire: Retorta Coronam
A thousand deaths for one pleasure. A million more for a kingdom come. Will you bear that twisted crown, to fill the hole in your heart? The slightest change in history can ripple out as a wave, flowing through the skies as a torrent of possibility. Such did occur, in one such timeline, where only the slightest rustle of scale alerted Darkstalker to the animus that would escape his grasp. A thousand branching timelines, all in the fleeting flight of a branch. Snapped under his talons, and steeling his heart, Darkstalker now prepares to build his kingdom- nay, his empire. (This is a fanfiction that deviates from the canon timeline around the ending of Talons of Power, featuring a theoretical scenario in which Darkstalker uses his new- ahem, "resources", to their full extent.) Prologue: Clasped In Talons "Last chance, animus. In ten seconds, this babbling dragon dies." A sword hovered in the air, shining steel nearly pressed to the neck of the measly RainWing who quivered before Darkstalker, mumbling her incessant dronings. The other animi stood worn, broken in mind and body, silent to the possibility of bloodshed before them, watching the great shadowy wyrm inch the sword closer and closer to the RainWing's neck. The animus hider's downfall was soon. In all of the possibility that flashed before Darkstalker, he saw only the revelation of something new. Yet in that flash, he had not expected to be hit by so many possibilities at once, as he heard the rustle of scales behind him. Before his eyes, Darkstalker saw kingdoms built and destroyed, fields of strawberries and clouds of ash, yet he could not spare but a moment. There was a noise. Something was whistling. Small, petty.... No, no, no, this was the branch of a future possibility! It was enchanted! Such trickery! Darkstalker snarled as he lashed his tail at the object, hearing a loud snap as it splintered onto the ground, the noise ringing about the empty stone halls. In a moment, a thousand possibilities had been fractured as equally as the mere twig that laid before him. Darkstalker shot his eyes in the direction from whence the cursed trickery had come from, to see a face so familiar. Emerald-green scales framing a round face with a brow creased and mouth agape. Webbed talons and royal-marked wings splayed out in a defensive pose, though clearly shivering at the tips. "FATHOM!" Cried Darkstalker, baring down upon the small dragon. Memory burst through Darkstalker's mind, alighting in his mouth as a great rush of flame that came bursting out as a furious orange gale. That traitor, that coward, that dirty fool! How dare he cross him again? "I'm not Fathom!" Shouted the dragon beneath the flames. "I'm Turtle!" The RainWing reacted immediately, dancing into the air to unleashed a spray of vile venom onto Darkstalker's eye. Searing pain, far greater physical pain than he had known in a millennia, crowded out his thoughts. Hurling curses, Darkstalker felt the venom eating away into his skull at an alarming rate. Clutching his head, he began to weave a spell. "HEAL, by all the snakes!" He howled, letting his talons go. He could hear the dragons escaping, trying to slip away. His mind was swarming too much to focus on the escapees. Darkstalker's head snapped over the Anemone, straining orders through the pain. "Capture them, lout! Use your magic!" The pale SeaWing springed into action, her features pulled in distress as her mouth moved against her will. "I enchant the floors of this castle to capture Turtle and Kinkajou." Her words came out as robotic, as the stony floors let out a great rumbling noise. Through the corner of his good eye, Darkstalker could see jutting stones wrap around a pair of colourful shapes, grinding sounds drowning out their frantic noises. "Good... good..." Hissed Darkstalker, stumbling over to the imprisoned dragons. The pain was subsiding, as a fleshy orb assembled itself into his skull. His big black eyes gazed down his captives. Indeed, it was not Fathom as he thought, but instead one of his foul-blooded descendants. "It's all coming back to me." Rumbled Darkstalker. "Turtle. Yes. Moon's friend. Fathom's descendant.You look exactly like him. And you act like him too. I believe I had a whole plan for you, before you muddled it up by hiding like that." Darkstalker stopped to chuckle. "Surprisingly clever, but all a futile effort. I saw your attempt to save your kin, but alas, there will be little mercy for you and your kindred here." The emerald dragon swallowed harshly, before he began. "Whatever you're going to do to me, please let Kinkajou go." Said Turtle. That was what he was concerned most about? How adorable. "I would never hurt a ball of fluff like her. No, I promised Moon I wouldn't hurt her friends," Darkstalker said thoughtfully, "and she's very fond of both of you. Of course, she doesn't know where you are, so, for the time being, let's stick you in the dungeon, until I decide how you can be useful." Darkstalker pondered his options for a moment. The SeaWing had a look about him that drove him to the madness of his deepest hatreds, yet that would not be an issue if he could keep him from view. Of course, his animus power would be a huge asset, and his seeing how his attempt was barely worth its salt, his spirits must be shattered. A bit more breaking wouldn't hurt. Of course, the other dragon needed to be dealt with first. "Kinkajou, I enchant you to forget about everything that happened in the throne room today. You'll wake up in your suntime in an hour and carry about your day as though everything is normal and Turtle is not here." He lightly touched the RainWing's chin, caressing it with his magic. She blinked once, and her face carried an odd look about it. Puzzlement, perhaps. It made sense, for Darkstalker knew spells could be disorienting at times. She needed to be sent somewhere else. "Go on now," He said to the RainWing. "Turtle and I need to chat." He waved his hands, unbinding the enchantment on the floorway to let her go. She left, bowing her head and flying away from the throne room. Darkstalker then turned his attention to Turtle, eyes narrowing. "It's unfortunate for you," Darkstalker said to Turtle," that you look so much like Fathom. I have very good reasons to hate him, you know. It's going to be hard to look at you, but I will manage so long as you prove your worth. I have plans, grand plans. I saw them as you performed your little trick, spanning the great timelines in an instant. So for that, I do in a way have to thank you for something. But do not mistake this for kindness, because you will find nothing here for you. Your home will be with the rats, as it should be." Darkstalker wrapped a wing around Turtle, steering him towards the dungeon. Just as they reached the end of the throne room, Darkstalker remembered the spell he cast on the throne room. It would have certainly been a disaster if his prisoner suddenly regained his abilities. But he couldn't discount the value of Turtle's abilities entirely. The SeaWing had a wit to him, a foul wit that reminded him of ages past. "Before we leave... I enchant this dragon so he may cast spells only when commanded by me, and may he be compelled to serve my interests only whilst doing so." Said Darkstalker, waving his great star-speckled wings over Turtle. "That's all?" Asked Turtle. The cringing dragon clearly expected much, much worse. Oh if only he knew. "The dungeon is well guarded, and you are not leaving it again. I have no reason to further enchant you. After all, unlike your halfwit sibling, I need your brain for something." Darkstalker had seen, in all his visions, a sandy figure, scales of etched stone and nearly as ancient as he. Yet he was confident he didn't only see that dragon in visions. There was a flash after he cast his great entrapping spell on the animi. A flash of something escaping, fleeing to the winds. He needed that in his talons, that spilling sand. That brief mirage. The thought pestered Darkstalker's head as he entered into the dungeon with Turtle. "You must've seen her." Whispered Darkstalker to Turtle, leaning in so closely as to frighten the dragonet with his large black eyes. "You've been here the entire time. That mirage that came so quickly and left." The green dragon's eyes widened. "I thought I was the only one who saw her." "She too, is an animus. I need her for my plans." "What? She is? I guess that explains how she got away so quickly- but I'm not helping you get her." Darkstalker threw back his head and laughed, conjuring a set of shackles to bind Turtle to the dungeon wall. "You will serve in time. All will learn to serve the true and just King Of The NightWings in time, whether it be willingly or not. This world will be made right again." Chapter 1: Stage Enter Turtle stared at the metallic bars in front of him. This wasn't how the story was supposed to end. Things couldn't end like this, with him and his friends trapped and everybody none the wiser. This was supposed to be his moment of sacrifice, to aid the world in some tiny measure. But he couldn't even do that right. Now he, and all the other animus dragons, were barely more than weapons. Turtle imagined Darkstalker, in his twisted crown, commanding him to kill. He could feel it, in his mind, the blood rushing down the spear he thrust forward with his mind, upon whatever dragon stood before him. Turtle felt a slight quiver in his maw. He quickly wiped away the gathering moisture with his wings, but the feeling of dread and guilt still remained. Don't cry, he reminded himself, shaking his wings off. He prodded his shackles, feeling them tingling with animus magic. He would open his mouth to speak, or will a spell into existence, but he knew that Darkstalker's spell would make sure no magic left his talons until the order was given. Perhaps there was still hope. If he could convince Darkstalker, or maybe get the help of somebody else... but who? Turtle rested an dirty emerald talon on his chin, pondering for a moment. Kinkajou! She wasn't affected by Darkstalker's enchantment because of the healing spell! She was already so stealthy and charming and smart- ah, Turtle snapped himself back to the task at hand. She would be perfect for organising an escape. The only problem was contacting her in this prison cell. Darkstalker probably wouldn't let anybody see the dark side of his kingdom so openly. As if a brick fell right into place from the heavens, footsteps began to echo down the dark hall. A pale dragonet emerged, her form stiff and cold. It took Turtle a moment to recognize her as Anemone, for her eyes were glazed over like glass, and her maw was clasped shut into a remorseful expression, instead of her usual aloof grin. "Anemone." Whispered Turtle, going as far to the edge of his cell as the shackles would allow. His voice seemed to snap some form of conscience back to Anemone, though she clearly was distressed by his voice, trying to avoid eye contact. Her frown deepened, and her wings bundled up. She slid a bowl of foggy stew towards Turtle, but never once made eye contact, avoiding his gaze. "Listen, Anemone, it's not your fault I'm here. Darkstalker fooled everybody." Said Turtle, trying to meet her eyes. "I need you to help me, so that we can go warn everybody." Her face lifted slightly, pulling into an uneasy grin, though it was of droll humour. To see hope no longer upon his sister's face sent a pang of similar despair through him, but he was already too far along in his planning to care. Hope or not, he had to do something. "Things seem kinda bad right now, but I have a plan." Turtle whispered. "I can't move right now, and you can't speak. Little problems, I know." Anemone snorted, flaring her gills. "I think our first stage of order should be getting those things back, even if it means I'll have to put up with a bit of sibling banter." She snorted again, this time angrier. Turtle couldn't help it, it was a little bit funny seeing her get so flustered and yet being able to do nothing about it. "Sorry, sorry, anyways, Darkstalker said he was going to hunt some dragon that appeared at the same time we did. He'll probably have to take us out to cast some things at some point, which means we could probably convince him to give us our powers back. Now when he does that, we're going to need to secretly enchant some way of contacting Kinkajou-" Anemone made the best kissy face she could with her maw snapped shut. "No, no, I don't mean it like that!" Turtle quickly grew flustered. It took a minute for the beet red to dissipate from his snout before he was ready to start whispering again. "No, she's immune to his spells, she can help us get the message out, and maybe even free us. All we need is for Darkstalker to be so distracted by his hunt that he misses Kinkajou sneaking out. Once everybody knows about this situation, Qibli will be able to get them some of my earrings and they can come and free us." Anemone gave a questioning look, cocking her ears back. Turtle shrugged slightly. This may be even worse than his last plan, but it was a start. This would obviously have to be improvised as they came along, for Darkstalker's mind was like some insidious labrinth, with all of the terrifying ways he imposed his will on others. Still, Anemone looked apprehensive at best. "Anemone, this is the best shot we have. Nobody knows where we are except her and Darkstalker. If we're getting out, its through her. Please, trust in me. I didn't give up on you, now please don't give up on me." Anemone nodded, before heading off back to the palace. Her gait was slow and almost robotic, but it carried just a bit of soul to it, a tad bit of a swaying tail. She still had some hope in her, and for Turtle, that was enough. The plan would need hope and determination to set the pieces in place. Now all that remained was to wait for how complicated Darkstalker would make this. Chapter 2: The Moon Moonwatcher felt an odd shiver pass through the air. A chill that pricked her obsidian spines, causing them to flare out on her neck. Was there a window open in the library? Creeping through the dusty halls of the library, she gazed at the destroyed and battered scrolls that lined its crumbling stone shelves. She had once heard that this used to be the grandest and largest library in all of Pyrrhia... but now it was little more than a mess, lost to the ages of time. Finding herself at the end of the vast hall after roughly a minute of walk, she did indeed find a window, open to the screeching winds. A starry curtain, decked in hues of midnight, yet torn to dusty brown near the edges, laid fallen on the floor. Well, she couldn't really fix that. But there was something else about this hall that gave her the shakes. Was somebody watching her? Moonwatcher reached out with her mind, scanning for thoughts in the air. Then, her mind hit a blank. Not nothing, but something hidden, a blot of thought, fogged by something strong. Panic ran through her. Running to a shelf, she grabbed a scroll in her talons, brandishing it as one might a bladed weapon. "I know you're there!" She said, puffing out her wings despite the deep fear that settled in her throat. Shaking the feeling aside, she stood ready as something snaked across the tops of the shelves, making little scratching noises with its talons as it drew ever closer. Suddenly, a voice broke the tension, as a familiar shape rippled out from the darkness. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. Are you worried!?" Kinkajou said, quieter than usual yet still boasting a chirp in her speech. "Oh, it was just you. I'll admit, you did have me worried for a second." Sighed Moonwatcher. "Why'd you do the whole creeping thing?" Kinkajou shifted her eyes to the side before leaning in. "I'm not supposed to be here." "What, why?" Said Moonwatcher. "Darkstalker told me to go as if everything is normal, but it's not normal and please I need- I need..." Kinkajou's scales begun to cycle rapidly between various colours. Red, orange, green, purple, black. These dark shades weren't usual for Kinkajou, so this piqued an interest in Moonwatcher. "What's the matter? Are you ok?" Moonwatcher wrapped a starry wing around Kinkajou. Kinkajou's breathing slowed down slightly, but her scales still remained a muddle of shades. "Darkstalker took Turtle and Anemone. He's probably going to do something bad with them and I failed Turtle and-" Kinkajou broke down into sobbing, trying to hide her face. "What? But Turtle and Anemone just left, why'd they be in the castle again?" "Darkstalker held me hostage with a point-stick so he could take Turtle! He has the rest of the animus dragons too! Anemone and Stonemover are there too. He said something about a plan- anyways, we need to free Turtle! Darkstalker took him somewhere!" "Darkstalker would never do something like that! That's impossible." Moonwatcher was in a state of disbelief, her eyes wide. Kinkajou never seemed like one to lie about something like this- but at the same time, this flew in the face of everything she knew about Darkstalker. He'd never threaten to kill Kinkajou- at least she didn't think so. "Come on, Moon. Can't you see his bossiness with your powers? Or at least where Turtle is?" Moonwatcher reached out as far as she could, into the future and present, straining her mind to a headache, yet so much still remained misty. Something hit her... roiling sands, flat stones... no, no, no, she had to look at the castle. She could see a hall, and a dragon with a twisted crown. Before him sat a hall, and in the hall sat many fine dragons of varying tribes. They were readying for a feast. Certain figures she could make out, like Glory, but others remained vague and blurry. A SandWing... a SeaWing... three NightWings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until a few dragons left the room. The twisted crown led the SeaWing and the SandWing away, and then there was darkness. No further could she see. Nothing was wrong. "I can't see it. Kinkajou, are you sure what you saw was real? Maybe it was a nightmare you had?" "No, it was real! Come with me, Moon! We have to stop him!" Kinkajou tugged on Moonwatcher's wrists, but she refused to move. "I'm not going to fight Darkstalker! Kinkajou, he's been nothing but nice since we've been here! Sure he's a bit scary, but I think we just need to time to understand him better. If anything's wrong, I can talk it out with him, but... I can't see anything he did wrong." Said Moonwatcher, puzzlement in her voice. "Fine! I'll go find somebody else if you won't help! But please, Moon, Turtle's in big danger! Also, please don't tell Darkstalker I was here." Kinkajou burst into bright red, before fading away, only the black satchel on her chest visible. Say... didn't that satchel belong to Turtle? Alone in a swarm of confused thoughts, Moonwatcher stood pale before the evening light, hopelessly alone with the feeling that something was slipping from her grasp. What it was, she couldn't tell. She couldn't tell a lot of things recently. It scared her, as much as she hated to admit it. Something was changing, and she couldn't see what.Category:Fanfictions Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete) Category:Fanfictions (Semi-Canon) Category:Content (RimeTheIcewing)